


Get Your Kicks

by twistedingenue



Category: Captain America, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Diners, F/M, Route 66 - Freeform, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedingenue/pseuds/twistedingenue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Won't you get hip to this timely tip:<br/>When you make that California trip<br/>Get your kicks on route sixty-six.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Your Kicks

**Author's Note:**

> Look, eventually, everyone writes a fic based in their hometown, right?

"You heading over to the mansion?" The waitress asks, refilling Steve's coffee cup. She's a pretty picture, despite that's about three in the morning, and what was probably supposed to be a crisp white shirt underneath her apron is wrinkled with the effects of a long night working.  
   
"Excuse me?" Steve asks, confused.  
   
"The David Davis Mansion? You've got a pretty sweet ride out there, figured it must be time for the vintage auto show. I went last year, got a friend who volunteers there. They were all Edwardian'ed out. Gibson tucks and everything. It's a nice bike, would fit in nicely." The waitress rambles with a smile.  
   
"No, I'm just passing through...I actually don't know where I am." Steve admits.  
   
"Towanda, well, really, you’re getting close to the city. Normal. Technically, it's a town, but don't tell them that. They are getting all fancy being paired up with Bloomington. Where you from?"  
   
"Brooklyn." He replies with a smile. The girl really is pretty, with big wide lips, with lipstick that's fared far better than her shirt, but he supposes it's easier to reapply that than to iron an oxford while working.  
   
"You don't sound like you're from Brooklyn." She perks an eyebrow at him and she wears her amused grin well. The diner is one of the ubiquitous ones he's found going through Illinois, a little run down but clean and well lit, even if the carpet is a bit faded and stained. They all serve breakfast every hour of the day and something called a horseshoe.  
   
"Most people don't, I've noticed. Brooklyn accents a bit overplayed, especially now, in my --" Steve catches himself, "my grandfathers day, it was a bit more pronounced, but now? There's so much there that there's not really one predominate accent anymore. And even then, it wasn't the only one." The horseshoe does look good, and he orders one. He didn't catch her name the first time, and while it is on her nametag, it's partially covered by her hair and he didn't want to stare at her chest to read it.  
   
"Right up, soldier." He pulls out the phone that Tony gave him before he left, the phone that can fit in a pocket and isn't attached to huge power source or wires. He still gets a kick out of it, but it's starting to wane. He checks the weather, supposed to rain hard for most of the morning and it probably be a good time to catch some shut-eye.  
   
The waitress swings by again, sits at a table nearby and rolls up silverware in faded burgundy napkins, "Is there a good hotel nearby?"  
   
"Only ones in town here are for dealers." she says, flipping her hair back, and he can finally read her nametag without blushing. Darcy, "But you get on Veterans and there's plenty. Just stay along the drag, and if you think it looks shady, it probably is." A bell rings, and she gets up, grabbing Steve's plate from the kitchen.  
   
A horseshoe is apparently, god's gift to cheese and carbohydrates; a hamburger patty on top of thick toast, covered in french fries and a cheese sauce. He suspects that while the fries are mass produced, the cheese isn't. It doesn't have that toxic color he's seen in other restaurant. And there's plenty of everything -- even the patty takes up most of the plate.  
   
He'll say this for the Midwest, they sure know how to feed people.  
   
He almost doesn't notice that Darcy's sat down next to him at the counter.  
   
"So if you aren't from around here, and you aren't here for the show, what brings you to beautiful McLean county?" She asks.  
   
"Are you supposed to be sitting with the customers?" he questions back, shaking a fry at her, because the company is nice, there's too much time to think on the open road. And talking to women is easier now.  
   
"You are the only customer in here. Consider it personal service. Besides, you're cute and I mostly get old truckers in here during the night. It's a change of pace, and don't avoid the question."  
   
Steve manages not to blush, because he still hasn't gotten too used to women, anyone really, finding him attractive, "Long story, but let's call it that I'm more or less on leave and decided to see the country. And then I'm in Ohio and my friend programmed a..." he tries to remember the program, the app, that Clint had downloaded for him, that played music from just after he went into the ice. One of the more thoughtful moments the man had, saying that when Steve got back, they'd move on to the 60's, "Pandora station for me, and it played Route 66 and it sounded like a good time, I’d forgotten I’d wanted to do that as a kid. I’ve served my country, I’d like to see a little more of it."  
   
"I have a feeling it was more interesting when the song was written, but you aren't the first to be inspired these days. You might be the youngest I've seen this summer though. “ Darcy says, “Well, that wasn’t with their parents.”  
   
"You see a lot of people like me around here?"  
   
"Oh, I'm not from here either. I go to school in Virginia but...long story, I got Fresh Princed out here by some government types when that shit in New York was happening. I kinda have met Thor before and I really shouldn't be telling you this at all. I'm sure tomorrow I'll be picked up and questioned for spilling." she puts her head in her hands, her long dark hair falling forward, "I didn't even tell my aunt and uncle that I didn't decide to come out here on my own to visit for the summer."  
   
"Your secret is safe with me, I promise not to tell anyone in a suit about you," He keeps shoveling in the sandwich, because it is delicious, and okay, the cheese is a little fake. But Steve can appreciate fake food a little bit, as long as it means that there is enough food, for him and for everyone. "Fresh Princed?" he asks between bites. He's not touching the knowing Thor thing, because he doesn't want to reveal his hand either.  
   
"You know, Fresh Prince? I got in one little fight and my mom got scared?" she sing-songs and seeing his baffled look continued, "She said you're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air? Wow, did you miss the 90's there in Brooklyn?"  
   
"I didn't get out much," He admits, as good of an explanation as any. She's laughing, and reaches out an touches his arm, tentatively at first, but when he doesn't pull away she strokes up and down the bare the skin, a little awed at the muscle. She bites at her lip and looks up at him through long eyelashes and oh, she's flirting.  
   
"So I'm done whenever you finish paying, and my ride back into Bloomington isn't done for an hour after that. How about giving me a ride and I'll treat you to a milkshake at Steak and Shake? Come on, it's Bloomington-Normal, we invented Steak and Shake, you'll love it."  
   
Steve can feel the blush in his cheeks, knows it's running its way down, and Darcy babbles about oh my god, I'm never this forward, I'm sorry, "No, no," he says, waving her embarrassment off, "I'd like that. Maybe we can trade some long stories too." 

When he escorts her out the door, giving her his helmet, he can’t help but hum the melody, and it’s Darcy, wrapping her arms around him who sings much louder that it’s hip to get your kicks on Route 66.

**Author's Note:**

> You can keep up with me at my tumblr: [ twistedingenue ](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


End file.
